


Footsteps on the floorboards

by sagiow



Category: Mercy Street (TV)
Genre: Amputees, Brotp, Catching Up, Gen, Peg legs, Southern Gothic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24296431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagiow/pseuds/sagiow
Summary: Not all revenants meant him harm
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Footsteps on the floorboards

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Mansion House Murder](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384296) by [BroadwayBaggins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BroadwayBaggins/pseuds/BroadwayBaggins), [Fericita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fericita/pseuds/Fericita), [MercuryGray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryGray/pseuds/MercuryGray), [middlemarch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/middlemarch/pseuds/middlemarch), [sagiow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagiow/pseuds/sagiow), [tortoiseshells](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tortoiseshells/pseuds/tortoiseshells). 



> Takes place right before the events of Chapter 12 of "A Mansion House Murder"

It was more than odd, sleeping in a grand, fashionable room of the same hotel in which, ten years prior, Samuel Diggs had had little more than a lumpy pallet in the basement. Back then, the cries and moans had been his nightly companions, the weight of the building and the souls it housed heavy above him. The silence which now wrapped him with damasked, cushioned comfort was much more unsettling, every creak in the old structure a warning, every footstep in the hallway bringing him to attention. Another man dead within these walls... How many soldiers had died before him? How many, in this very room? Had they ever managed to leave it? From the occasional sigh at the windy window, the faint phantom sights at the corner of his eye, he could not do otherwise but doubt it.

The night had been both short and unbearably long, and Samuel had seen the morning light creep through the shutters with a mixture of relief and apprehension. This new day did not promise to bring any happier development than the previous, trading corpses and ghosts for potential devils and demons, and it was with reluctant determination that he had dressed and taken a quick breakfast of tea and toast with Charlotte. Upon parting, he had kissed and held his wife perhaps a moment longer than he would have, on any other day, in any other place. 

He had been about to exit the hotel when he was stopped in his tracks by a boisterous call. 

“Doctor Diggs! Finally, sir, we meet again!” 

Turning around, he saw Byron Hale approach him quickly, a wide smile upon his face, a cane clicking along to his left foot against the polished floorboards. His uniform was impeccable, the multicolored ribbons upon his breast and the silver eagle on his shoulder striking enough of an impression to offset the still unsettling sight of the black eyepatch. 

“Colonel Hale, good morning! Nice to see you.” The officer held out his hand and he clasped it firmly, receiving a vigorous shake along with it. “You look well; how is the foot treating you?” 

Hale tapped the prosthesis with his cane. “It’s an absolute wonder! Better than my old one! I mostly only use the walking stick because Mrs. Hale says it makes me look distinguished,” he added with a roguish smile. “You truly are an orthopedic wizard, my good man. How is business on that end? 

“Can’t complain,” Diggs shrugged modestly. “The War has left its fair share of men in lack of a limb.” 

“They won’t miss it much longer, with your fine work. Have you made any progress in the ocular department?” he asked eagerly, with what was probably an attempt at a wink. 

Samuel could not help but chuckle. “No, that’s considerably higher wizardry than available in this fine country, although I hear some advances have been made in Europe. Still, I doubt it’s something to be solved with a few bits of lumber and leather.” 

“Ah, pity. Well, all in due time, and in the mean one, I never fail to refer my former patients to your good care.” He stopped himself then, taking in the sharp coat on Samuel’s back, the brushed hat in his hand. “But pardon my brusque interruption, you were just about to leave...?” 

His unenviable task brought back to mind, Samuel nodded with a sigh. “Yes, I meant to speak with a few of Bullen’s... business contacts, for lack of a more nefarious name. Try and get a feel of the man he’s become since the War, if any different from the one we knew.” 

Gravely, Hale shook his head. “A most unpleasant of mornings you have in store, my friend. Do forgive me if I am being paternalistic, but... is that safe?” The look his good eye gave Samuel was one of clear worry. “I’ve been away from Alexandria for a good many year, but I do not expect things to have changed to the point where a Black man can go poking around asking questions about a known criminal, and skip home merrily to his missus at the end of the day.” 

“I’m aware of that,” Samuel agreed wearily. “I’ll keep out in the open, with plenty of witnesses around. I plan on flushing out the rats, not going down their holes, and most definitely on coming home to Charlotte tonight. But thank you for your concern.” 

Hale was not convinced. "I would still prefer you did not go about it alone. I'd accompany you myself, but I have a previous engagement I cannot postpone. I can ask the local garrison to lend you a man."

"If the Greens don't want to involve the police, I doubt they'd take kindly to you calling in the troops." He forced himself to smile then, for both his and his former colleague's sake. "I'll be fine, Byron; I'm meeting with some old friends first. Don't worry, I'll return this afternoon with plenty of time for Round 2 of our... examination."

Although this did not remove his frown, it was at least successful in drawing a smirk from Hale, who clasped him on the shoulder, his surprising strength unaffected by his injuries. “Stay on your toes, Sam, think of your children, and know that if you’re not back by luncheon, I'll have the whole US Navy hunting for you, the Greens and their hotel be damned.” 

Samuel did not need to force his smile then. With flourished precision, he brought his fingers to his forehead and clicked his heels. “Aye aye, Admiral.” 

And when he exited the hotel, his unsuspected friend's laughter loud in his ears and the ghost of his grasp still warm upon his arm, the sun shone a bit brighter.

**Author's Note:**

> This was the original opening of Chapter 12, but as it was already so long, it got sent to Deleted Scene Land and made prettier and Gothicker along the way. All I wanted was for Samuel to be the one who made Hale's peg leg as he made Ezra's back on the show, and it apparently took me some 900 more words to articulate it.
> 
> Sam needs all the best bros in the world, especially those wielding some actual power.


End file.
